The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1887-06-29

hedrlm; this Sabbath morning he addresses
all Christendom. Paul the Apostle stood
on Mars Hill addressing a handful Of
philosophers who knew not so much about
science as a modern school girl. To-day he
talks to all the millions Of Christendom
about the wonders Of justification and the
glories of resurrection. John Wesley was
howled down by the mob to whom he preached
and they threw bricks at him, and they de-
nounced him, and they jostled him and they
spat upon him, and yet to-day, in all lands, ne
is admitted to be the great father Of Method
ism Booths bullet vacated the Presidential
chair; but from that spot Of coagulated blood
on the floor in the box of Fords Theatre,
there sprang up the new life of a nation.
Stephen stoned: but Stephen alive.
Pass on now, and see Stephen in his dying
prayer His first thought was not how the
stones hurt his head, nor what would become
of his body. His first thought was about his
spirit. "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit" The
murderer standing on the trap-door, the black
cap being drawn over his head before the e1-
ecution, may grimace about the future; but
you and have no shame in confesSinS some
anxiety about where we are going to come out.
. You are norall body. THERE'S within you soul;
see it gleam from your eyes to-day, an
see it irradiating your countenance Some
times I am abashed before an audience,
not because I come under your physical eye
sight, but because realize the truth that l
stand before so many immortal spirits The
probability is that your body will at last find
q sepulture in some of the cemeteries that
surround this city. There is no doubt but
that your obsequies will be decent and re-
spectful, and you will be able to pillow your
head under the maple, or the Norway spruce,
or the cypress. or the blossoming fir; but this
spirit about which Stephen prayed, what di-
rection will that takel What guide will es-
cort its What gate will open to receive
ita What cloud will be cleft for its pathways
After it has got beyond the light of our sun,
of the wayl Will the soul have to travel
through long deserts before it reaches the
good land? If we should lose our pathway,
will there be castle at whose gate we may
ask the way to the city! o, this mysterious
spirit within us? 1t has two wings, but it Is
in a cage now. 1t is locked fast to keep
it; but let the door Of this cage open the least,
and that soul is off, Eagles wing could not
catch it. When the soul leaves the body it
takes fifty worlds at O bound. And have l
no anxiety about it2 Have you no anxiety
about it? do not care what you do with my
body when my soul is gone, or whether yo9
believe in cremation or inhumation.
of sackcloth as in satin lined
with eagles down. But my soul-before l
leave this house this morning I will find out
where it is going to land. Thank God for the
intination Of my text, that when we die
Jesus takes us. That answers all questions
for me. What though there were massive
bars between here and the city Of light, Jesus
great Saharas Of darkness, Jesus could
illume them. What though I get weary
on the way, Christ could lift me on His
omnipotent shoulder. What though there
were chasms to cross. His hand could
transport me. Then let Stephens prayer be
VI rcnoiyo
spirit" It may be in that hour we shall be
too feeble to say long prayer. 1t may be in
that hour we will not be able to say the
"Lords Prayer" for it has seven petitions.
Perhaps we may be too feeble even to say the
infant prayer our mothers taught u.s. which
John Quincy Adams, seventy years OF age,
said every night when he put his head upon
his pillow:
"Now lay me down to sleep,
Ipray the Lord my soul to keep"
We may be too feeble to employ either Of
these familiar forms; but this prayer of Ste
phen is so short is so concise, is so earnest, IS
so comprehensive, we surely will be able TO
say that: "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit"
o. il that prayer is answered, how sweet it
will be to die! This world is clever enough
to U.S. Perhaps it has treated us great deal
better than we deserved to be treated:
but if on the dying pillow there shal!
break the light Of that better world, we shall
have no more regret about leaving small,
dark, damp house for one large, beautiful,
and capacious. That dying minister in Phil,
adslphia, some years ago, beautifully depicted
it when, in tho last moment, he threw up his
hands and cried out: II move into the light!
Pass on now and I will show one more
picture, and that is Stephen asleep. With
pathos and simplicity peculiar to the Script,
ures the text says Of Stephen: He fell
asleep" 10" you say, '.what a place that
was to sleep! A hard rock under him, stones
falling down upon him, the blood streaming,
the mob bowling. What place it was to
sleepn' And yet my text takes that symbol
of slumber to describe his departure, so
sweet was it, so contented was IT.. SO
peaceful was it. Stephen had LIVED
a very laborious life. His chief work
had been to care for the poor. How many
loayes Of bread he distributed, how many
bare feet he had sandaled, how many co.'s OF
sickness and distress he blessed with minis
tries of kindness and love, do not know;
but from the way he lived, and the way ne
preached, and the way he died, know ne
was a laborious Christian. But that
is all over now He has, pressed
the cup to the last fainting lip. de
has taken the last insult from nls enemies: l.
The last stone to whose crushing welght ne Is
s1sceptible has been hurled. Stephen Is deao!
The disciples come They take him up. Iney
wash away the blood from the wounds. lney
straiphten out the bruised limbs. They Drusn
back the tangled hair from the brow, ana
then they pass around to look upon the I
calm coilntenance of him who had hveo
for the poor and died for the truth Stephen
asleep! l have seen the sea driven with the
hurricane until the tangled foam caught IN tne
rigging, and wave rising above wave seemed
as If about to storm the heavens, and then
have seen the tempest drop, and the waves
crouch, and everything become smooth ana
FURNISHED as though a camping place for the
glories of heaven So | have seen man,
whose life has been tossed and driven, coming
down at last to an infinite calm, i'll which
there was the hush of heavens lullaby. Stephen
asleep. I saw such an one He fought all
his days against poverty and against abuse.
They traduced his name They ratified at the
door knob while he was dying, with duns 1or
debts he could not pay; yet the peace OF u99
brooded over his pillow, and while the world
faded, heaven dawned, and the deepening
twilight of earth's night was only y the opening
twilight Of heavens morn. Not sigh: NOT
a tear Not struggle Hush Stephen
asleep!
can never tell by the setting sun whether
there will be drought or not. l cannot tell
hv the blowing of the wind whether it will
he fair weather or foul weather on the NOR
row. But I can prophesy, and l will
prophesy what weather it will te when
vvon' the Christian come to die. You may
have it very rough now. 1t may he
this week one annoyance, the next another
ANNOYANCE. It may be this year one bereave-
ment, the next another bereavement. Before
this year has passed you may have to beg tor
bread, or ask for a scuttle OF coal, or par OF
shoes; but spread your death couch amid the
IL mol kn ont